


should my people fall (then surely I'll do the same)

by soul_of_blaze



Category: The Hobbit - All Media Types, The Hobbit - J. R. R. Tolkien
Genre: Death, Dwarves, Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-03-17
Updated: 2014-03-17
Packaged: 2018-01-16 01:10:36
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,456
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1326106
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/soul_of_blaze/pseuds/soul_of_blaze
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The King Under the Mountain has lost more than he can remember, to fire and ruin. </p><p>He doesn't like to remember what he can but he does.</p>
            </blockquote>





	should my people fall (then surely I'll do the same)

**Author's Note:**

> beep boop i have so many feelings about the durin line and i rarely write actual sad things so this is.... here now, to take a break from writing fluff and such 
> 
> obviously the title is lyrics from 'I See Fire'

**_Third Age 2770_ **

_Dragon!_ , echoed through the halls of Erebor so loud that it shocked Frerin from where he had been hiding from his cousins. Such a word had only come to him through nightmare tales told to him by his mother and occasionally, his brother. The young dwarf prince had never particularly liked those tales as they had frightened him to the point of restless sleep. When Thorin had discovered this, he had stopped telling them and not a tale like that had spun to their sister's ears. 

She wanted them, but both brothers refused and their mother as well when she found out what they'd been doing to her younger son. 

Now, all he could think was of a dragon smashing itself into the side of Erebor, of fire and ruin and it terrified him. Not only that, it certainly had been his brother's voice that echoed on the word. Frerin stumbled to his feet, sprinting down the hall and looking wildly for his sister. Dis had last been following their father and grandfather around but it wouldn't be safe for her in chaos. Other dwarrows ran past him but a few past and his cousin, Fundin, paused at the sight of him.

"Prince Frerin," he said, reaching out to grasp the dwarfling's arm. "Where are you going? This way, we need to leave the mountain!"

"But, my _namad_ ," Frerin said desperately, managing to wrestle away from Fundin. "I have to find her! I will not leave her in the mountain." 

Fundin stared at him in disbelief, but then gave a sigh with a nod and waved him off before he could linger on his words. Frerin shifted, sprinting back down the hall and towards the Gallery of the Kings. He never made it there, as he spotted Dis sitting on the floor, tears on her face as she rubbed at her knee. Relief filled him only for a moment, as the sound of the front gates being smashed through accompanied with the distinct roar of a dragon sent him fumbling over towards his sister. Ahead of them, for they were not too far from the Gallery of the King, several dwarrows who hadn't been enlisted to defend Erebor came charging and yelling. They might have been swept up were it not for the fact that he could stand his ground. A moment passed and when Frerin glanced back up, their mother had appeared in front of them. Her hair wild, she let out a huge relieved noise and swept them into her arms. 

"Frerin, Dis," Fris breathed into his hair. "Come on, we have to go. Your brother is evacuating who he can, we must hurry before anything happens."

" _Amad_ ," he started but she shushed him with a stern look.

"Carry your sister, it will be quicker that way. I will be right behind you, now, go," she pushed him lightly with the palm of her hand. Shakily, Frerin gathered up his sister and tucked her against his chest. Behind him, he could hear the rustle of skirts as their mother gathered up her skirts. No one had time to change, else the women would likely be dressed like the men. Still shaking a bit, he began running toward the front gates but he was not sure where they would be able to leave through. His only consolation at that moment was the sound of his mother behind him. 

As they rounded the corner, Fundin came into view. He had his sword drawn, looking around wildly but when his eyes landed on the young prince and princess, followed the by the Queen, he visibly relaxed. But Frerin did not slow down, he could not, not now, with fear building in his stomach.

"Lady Fris," Fundin said, and then Frerin could see his cousin out of the corner of his eye as they sprinted through the halls of Erebor. "I am relieved to see you, Thrain will be happy as well, now if we could just get out of here before the dragon finds us..."

"That would be best," Fris agreed from behind them, admist the sounds of feet pounding on the ground and the shouts of the other dwarrows around them. "The front gate was smashed through, but would it be possible to leave through there?"

"Aye, that is our only exit now. Word is the dragon has taken up within the treasure hoard already," Fundin muttered, his eyes scanning over the faces of the dwarrows they passed. He could not spot the other children of Durin's line amongst them and he had to hope that the royal family had made it out. 

Behind them, a great noise broke over the panicking of their people, causing Frerin to stumble and look back. A pillar crumbled, and though it likely happened in a mere few seconds, the way it happened as he would remember it was slow, like the seconds stretched over an hour. Fris skid to a halt at the wrong moment, and a large bit of the pillar came cascading down on her. Frerin let out a horrid noise, nearly dropping his sister in a chance to get to his mother but Fundin yelled his name and then they were being pulled back into a sprint.

He could not remember how they made it out, but he breathed in the mildly fresh air, gripping Dis to his chest as he fell to his knees outside of Erebor. There he knelt, among the now lost dwarrows of Erebor. Where his brother was, he did not know nor his father or grandfather. Fundin disappeared, charging towards his son when he spotted him and Frerin buried his face into his sister's dirtied hair. 

"Fre, Fre," Dis tugged on one of his loosened braids, a tremble in her small voice. "Where's _amad_? How come we left her?"

No, he thought. It was a desperate thought but he had hoped she hadn't seen it. Had she? Their mother crushed by stone? When he looked up again, after what seemed hours of clutching her small frame, Thorin stood there with the most relieved look on his face. It did not make Frerin especially happy to see his brother then. What was he to say? He could see the searching look on Thorin's face as he looked around them for their mother. 

"I'm sorry," he choked out, digging his fingers into Dis' shoulders until she let out a whine that he was hurting her. "Thorin, I'm sorry, I couldn't, Fundin wouldn't let me, it just happened to fast, oh Mahal."

And Frerin didn't need to see the fear, the grief in his brother's face because he knew the feeling plain as day. They shared a look, and Frerin did not quite believe that his brother did not hate him for letting their mother die. The moment was lost as their father came toward them, looking less lost than most and while he wondered briefly where their grandfather was, Dis escaped his arms to stumble toward their father. Thrain picked her up, whispering nonsense words to her as he surveyed his children. 

"The Mirkwood Elves have abandoned us," he said finally, eyes darkened. "Dale is gone, no Men survived what happened to their city. We have to move on," he directed his attention to his eldest son. "Thorin, rally what troops we have, we will depart as soon as we can."

Though Thorin still looked panicked and grief-stricken, he gave a nod and disappeared back into the confused and lost crowds of their people. Thrain looked over at his other son, holding Dis tighter as she shook in his arms. 

"Where is your mother?"

" _Adad_..." 

"Frerin, where is your mother?"

"I couldn't-"

Thrain stared at him in shock, nearly dropping his daughter but for his tight grip on her. He stood there for a long while, until Fundin's wife appeared and relieved the prince of his daughter. Then, he seemed shook out of his dread surprise. But he said nothing, turned from his son and disappearing within the crowd. Frerin slumped, covering his face with his hands in horror.

**Third Age 2790**

"We've been lucky, if you ask me," Dis amended, sitting between her brothers while they waited for news of their grandfather. "I don't remember what happened but we're all alive right now and I don't know if you can fault me for being happy about that."

Over her head, the two brothers shared a look. She would not remember the death of their mother, which was a relief, but just as well she did not have any memory of Erebor nor Fris. A sad thing, in that. 

"Well," Frerin said, easing a hand onto her shoulder. He would have said more but then Thorin let out a shout and the three of them scrambled up as they saw the companion of their grandfather come into the small place they'd made home. Their father appeared, arriving just in time for Nar to turn to him and he began talking urgently. The conversation turned their father's eager face to one of grief and he shared a moment of pain with Nar before he dismissed the dwarf. Then, he came toward his children and Thorin stepped forward to receive him.

"What has happened?" He demanded.

But he said nothing, eyes looking over the three of them is some strange way before sitting down. It was an entire week of this odd behavior, for their father would not drink nor eat. On the morning of the seventh day, he suddenly stood up and looked at his two sons, for Dis had been asleep that morning .

"This cannot be borne!" He shouted, turning and yelling fierce words in Khuzdul. Frerin looked over at Thorin, but neither of them understood what had happened. It took nearly an entire day to locate Nar, but they did and with Dis clutching at their sleeves while they looked at the old dwarf in concern.

"Where is my grandfather?" Thorin asked, though his voice had no kindness to it. 

"Thror is dead," Nar said, staring past them. "Azog, a great orc, murdered him. He carved his name into your grandfather's forehead and threw it for me to find. The orcs left me alive to tell your father this. They have claimed Moria as theirs."

Thorin grew furious then, roaring angrily in Khuzdul as he stomped out of the room. Frerin followed him, hand clutched tightly in Dis's as they followed their brother through their home. 

War had already been declared by their father, now the King of Durin's Folk, which to Frerin's fear, made his brother official heir to the throne they did not have. 

**Third Age 2799**

"No," Thorin put his foot down, ignoring the protests of his brother as he continued with his armor. War had been ongoing with the Orcs for a few years now and they'd been successful in driving back their enemy at most turns. But now, they were heading into a battle that would weigh the war one way or another. It was time to take Moria back, avenge their fallen king. Frerin wanted to go but his brother would not have that. "You're too young."

"I want to avenge our grandfather, Thorin! I have just as much right as you do," Frerin glowered, snatching away a piece of Thorin's armor so his brother could not finish putting his armor on. 

"I said, you are too young, Frerin. You are staying here and watching our people, especially our sister," he leveled his young brother with a frown. "It is just as much an honor to protect our kingdom's people as it is to fight in the war."

Frerin opened his mouth to protest, but then the door to the wardrobe opened and Thorin turned in surprise to stare at their sister as she gathered her skirts up. 

"You can't go, Frerin!" Dis grabbed hold of his arm, frowning. "If Thorin and _adad_ are gone, you have to stay with me and take care of me."

"Dis..."

Thrain had been watching his children and he approached them now, arms folded across his chest. "If he wishes to, Frerin has every right to fight in the war," the King said, cutting off both Dis and Thorin's protests. He only spared one glance as his younger son. "We leave soon for Moria, get into armor if you're going."

When he'd left, Thorin dropped his shoulders and frowned but Frerin had already begun gathering armor. Dis flopped onto the bed, frowning unhappily at the prospect of her entire family being off to war. Much less, without her. If Frerin were too young, then there was no way she could fight. 

"Who's going to take care of me, then?"

"Fundin's wife will," her eldest brother said finally, shifting his support to Frerin's side. "You know she counts you as one of her children. Stay with her as much as you can, keep an eye on the people."

Dis frowned and nodded, eyes watching as her brothers dressed in armor. 

"Ah, wait," her eyes widened and then she dug around in the pockets of her skirts. Producing a runestone, she fumbled it into Frerin's hands. "Keep this with you, it's a rune stone I carved it myself." A bit of pride there, she caught in Thorin's face but Frerin read the rune carefully and then slumped his sister into a hug. "You'll both come back."

It was a demand and Frerin nodded into her hair, whispering small comforts. When they broke apart, Dis rushed into Thorin's arms and clutched at him for fear of losing either of her brothers exploded behind her eyes then. 

She did not know she would not see Frerin again, but in portraits. 

Outside of the Moria, Thorin paused and sought out his brother. Thrain was busy calling out orders, organizing the army into different factions. A direct attack was the best choice of action and so they would do exactly that. Frerin stood with their kinsman, Fundin and his sons who were good friends of both the princes, but he departed from them as Thorin approached.

"Frerin," he said, eyes looking over his young brother. "Promise me you will not perish in this battle."

"I do not think I can promise you that, Thorin," Frerin tried a smile but his brother did not take it lightly. "But I have promised Dis I will return home and so I will," he paused, his fingers lingering on his armor, where the rune stone hid. "Even if it's just a part."

Thorin reached forward, embracing his brother tightly and they stood like that for a long time until the roar of dwarrows tore them apart. He cast his brother one last look before, joining his father. He did not notice Frerin join the ranks of the front with Fundin until it was too late, and then he could only stare but in shock at his father as the battle began. Dwarrows like Fundin would likely be able to hold their own in the front, but Frerin? He was too young, placing him there was practically a death wish. 

This group would later be driven into the forests near Mirrormere but Thorin would not know that until Azog had been slain and the battle won, but they dared not enter Moria despite Thrain's wish to. Thorin agreed with Dain and the non-Durin folk. It was not wise to enter those mines. 

They had lost far too much to grieve, but nonetheless they were dwarrows and had to find their own kin amongst the dead to report back to the King and their people in the Dunland. Then, in this moment, Thorin froze and looked over the remaining of his people for his brother. Frerin could be seen, nor Fundin and after a moment he and Dwalin headed toward the forests. 

In the forests, they came across another battlefield, and though all the orcs were slain here, few of the dwarrows here had survived. Frerin yet again could not be seen. Though fear sickened him, Thorin set to looking through the bodies. 

And they found Fundin first, viciously killed and torn apart, to which Thorin left Dwalin for he knew that it was important to let his kin grieve. But a few step away there lay Frerin, wounded severely and dead but not taken apart like their kinsman. He dropped to his knees, brushing away blood-caked hair to stare at his brother's lifeless eyes. No horror lay in expression, no, there was only a tightened expression that looked like it might have been determined one. Bowing his head, he spoke softly to his brother, then leaned down and pressed a kiss to his forehead. 

Carefully, wincing as he pressed past heavy wounds, he sought out the rune stone and pulled it free. It had survived everything, something that Frerin had promised not only to Thorin but to their sister as well. Though he shook, he stood up slowly and turned back. Had their dead counted less, they would have taken them back to the Dunland and buried them proper. Too many, and they could not do that. No matter if the dead counted within the limited royal family. 

He and Dwalin brought back the news of their dead kinsman with heavy hearts and while Balin mourned, Thrain did not spare more than a moment of grief for his young son. 

Their people in Dunland received them eagerly, but for the small number they returned in. Thorin left Balin and Dwalin to their mother, seeking out his sister among their people. She sat apart from everyone, only looking up as he sat down next to her. Whether she'd seen their father or not, he didn't know but he pressed the rune stone into her hand and said nothing more but for one thing:

"I couldn't protect him."

Whether Dis forgave him or not, she wept into his shoulder for hours. 

**Third Age 2850**

"Hail, King Thorin!" 

That was a phrase he had wanted to hear, yes, but it did not come in the way he had expected. No, the disappearance of their father left Thorin and Dis as the remaining direct of the Durin line. But unlike his grief of his mother, grandfather and brother, Thorin did not grieve his father. Neither did Dis. They went about life, one of them more content with Ered Luin than the other.

"I am too young for this," Thorin said to his sister as she came into his room with a tray of food. 

"As it might be," Dis said, setting it down and placing her hands on her hips. "You are the King of your people now, _nadad_ , and you have fully accepted that responsibility. Do not complain to me about it."

"Hm," he replied, before shifting and watching her. She looked ready to flee the room, as few people liked to spend time with Thorin. "I would like if you did not leave me for once, Dis, won't you stay?"

"... Aye, I will for today," his sister sat down on the edge of his desk, looking over the map he had spread out. A map of the world, she could plainly see a route coming together that would take their people back to Erebor. "Balin wished to speak with you, when you have time. I do not know of what, but it seemed urgent."

"Perhaps it is about this man I have been hearing rumors about?" He did not look up but he did feel his sister still on the desk. "You know, if my _namad_ is being courted, I'd like to know. What was the name I have heard? Vili, I think."

"I do not know if that is your business, Thorin," Dis frowned, turning her head away from him.

"Oh, though it is." 

"Hardly," she grumbled, turning away from him.

"Dis, you are the princess of our people. I do not think I shall be finding myself with heirs in any time at all and if you marry this man, then I might be counting any son you have as my official heir," Thorin kept his eyes on the map, but he still heard the shocked noise of his sister. 

"What?"

"You hear me, I am sure."

"Thorin..." Dis stared at him and he looked up, gazing at his sister with a determined look. "If you deem it necessary, I cannot deny you and any son of mine I would be proud for him to be King after you. But I do believe you will need to meet Vili first."

Her brother grinned, leaning his head against his sister's shoulder. Yes, for he was quite happy to hear her approval of that and the prospect of having family again with them was a brighter thought. 

**Third Age 2885**

Thorin kept his composure as he presented his sister with a bead from her husband's braids.  It had been an accident, a run-in with a small band of orcs but it had cost the lives of not only Vili but others that were with the King at the time. And the grief in his sister's face, one he had not yet seen (for he had seen grief of brother and grandfather, but the grief of your One stood differently in face), caused him to leave her to her own.

Fili, his eldest nephew and claimed heir, glanced up as he strode in. Beside him, Kili dozed and did not wake when he pulled the blonde away and into another room.

"Uncle!" He cheered excitedly, wrapping his arms around him (though Fili was a bit old for this, Thorin let him for the moment). "You are back! Did you bring us anything?"

"Fili," Thorin controlled his voice. "Sit down. I have something I need to tell you. It is something Kili should know as well but that will be up to your mother whether she tells him or not and I cannot tell if she will."

He sat down, eyes wide and questioning. 

"Your father," he said, then produced another bead. It had not been something that had been done in a while but the practice was still well known through their people and Fili paled at the sight of the bead of his father's. "We were taken by surprise and he gave his life to protect me."

"No," Fili said, but he took the bead with shaking fingers. "No," and then, "We cannot tell Kili!"  
  
"As I said, that is your mother's choice, not mine nor yours."

His heir slumped forward, covering his face as he mourned his father. It did not hurt Thorin as much, for he had lost enough family to handle his own grief but just as well, he and Vili were but brothers through marriage and that held a different grief than for blood. Later, he would find Kili and Dis huddled together, mourning quieter than Fili and with less tears though Thorin knew many of his sister's tears had already been spent before she told her younger son. 

**Third Age 2941**

"I hold you to your promise, Thorin," Dis stared hard at her brother. It had taken weeks to convince her that taking her sons would not be bad, for they were his heirs and it was important for them to claim Erebor with him. She had finally agreed, then attempted going with them but Thorin had firmly told her she was to take care of their people. It was much like the last time he'd left their people, leaving her to tend to their people. "You are taking my sons from me, and if I do not get them back, I will kill you myself!"

"That would be considered high treason, _namad_ ," he said, but his tone was light. "And I should think you might like to outlive me."

"Indeed I would, and Dain likes me well enough, I'm certain he would excuse me," she held her head up but he could see the glint of terror in her eyes. She lowered her voice. "All of you retake Erebor, write me and I will be part of the first convoy to Erebor. Do not make me be the last Durin, Thorin."

"Never," he said, gripping her hands. Behind them, Fili and Kili approached, eyes eager to leave Ered Luin for the first time. Thorin looked at them, then let go of her hands. "Take your time with your goodbyes, we do not leave until night."

Dis watched him leave, then turned her interest on her sons. Fili had long ago been gifted with his father's beads, the ones that Thorin had brought back, and those she blessed in khuzdul, ordering him to stay safe so that she could knock him up the side of the head when she came to Erebor. Then, she pulled him into a tight hug before dismissing him and staring at Kili.

"You must promise me," she said, holding her son to her tightly. "You must promise that you will come back to me." She then produced the rune stone, pressing it into his hand and watching him for a moment before hugging him tightly and kissed his forehead. 

"Yes, amad," Kili promised, squeezing her hands before he left on the heels of his brother. 

Dread filled her but it was too late to take them back now. 

Thorin would remember what happened, or he would if he had lived longer than a few hours after it had happened, on the battlfield of The Battle of Five Armies for ages to come. He had been out of his mind, only siding with his previous enemies when it was evident that it was necessary to their survival. Fighting against the orcs was not uncommon to him, and he did not know why he was struck. 

But wounded, he would not give up. Fili and Kili defended him, body and shield, throwing themselves at Bolg in desperation to keep their uncle from dying in the midst of the battle. This was the horror that happened then, for he had only experienced the death of their father beforehand in family. 

Fili fell first, a sword sliding through him with such ease that for a moment, the King truly though it was not real. And how he wished it weren't, for the sickening sound of the sword being pulled out was not what he wished to hear. The dwarf prince fell to his knees, eyes widening in shock as he fumbled for one of his various hidden weapons but he could not manage the strength. It mattered not, as moments later the orc who had ensured the death of his first heir fell by Kili's arrows. The two had been back to back, side by side, the entire battle. 

It was not the first time one of them was wounded during the battle, but this sudden attack and deadly wound had taken them both by surprise. 

This as well did not live long, for a moment after, his second heir knocked to the ground by an orc and a warg pounced upon him. With a terrified roar, Thorin attempted onto his feet to charge the warg but before he could, he fell back and watched as an Elf and Man took down the warg. But even that was too late, the warg had done its damage and Kili lay gasping, blood pooling out of his mouth as he fumblingly crawled over to his brother. His heirs lay there, dying but they had protected him and that had been their purpose after all.

As the world darkened around him, his vision narrowing, Thorin watched them die. 

When he woke again, and what would be the last time likely, he found Gandalf there. The wizard smiled sadly at him and pressed a cool stone into his hand. This was the second time he had the stone that'd been a promise to his sister, the second time he had failed her. And when Bilbo entered the tent, tears already on the edge of his eyes Thorin took back his harsh actions words, thinking of his sister, then to the stone clutched in his hands. 

"I can see the halls of my fathers," he said, looking at the trembling figure of his friend. "Before I go, Bilbo, take this," he struggled but did manage to press the rune stone into the hobbit's hands. He looked at it in confusion, for he could not read the runes nor did he know what it meant. "It was Kili's, a token and promise to his mother, my sister. I do not know if you shall ever meet her, but if you do, I beg you to give this to her."

And Bilbo promised he would, for he had never seen such grief in someone before. Thorin passed then, thinking his sister would likely punch him hard when she one day woke in the halls of their fathers. 

**Third Age 2952**

 

It had been quite some time since the hobbit had received any visitors, and he certainly wasn't expecting any that night, but the knock still came as he pattered about his kitchen. Bilbo gave his door a doubtful look, but opened it anyway. After all this time, he had become more open to visitors as very few hobbits still visited him and among those were only his cousins. But no, at his door stood a Dwarrowdam.

"Ah," he said, eyes wide in surprise but he bowed to her anyway. "Hullo, Bilbo Baggins, at your service."

"Dis," she said, pausing and looking at his face for something but the hobbit did not know what. Eventually, she bowed. "At yours."

"Well," he said after a moment, peering past her. "I do not mean to sound rude but I'd like to know if any others are along."

"No, it is just me," she eyed him, frowning. "I've been informed that you don't enjoy giant groups of dwarrows invading your home."

"That is true," Bilbo grinned, then inviting her in. "Ah, I should put the kettle on, excuse me!"

Dis looked around, taking in the hobbit hole with ease. Dain had sent her letters about what had happened, including an extensive letter about Bilbo Baggins, his service to her blood line and where she could find him. It was obvious neither her brother nor sons had given her name to him. She would keep it in secret for now. The hobbit came back, smiling uneasily at her. 

"Are you hungry?"

"No, Master Baggins, I am fine," she smiled. "Thank you, I have been told much about your hospitality. The claims are true then, but please, do not mind me. I have simply come to talk with you and I do not intend to overstay my welcome."

They stood there, looking at each other until the kettle screeched and Bilbo disappeared again. Then, he brought her into a sitting room and gave her a cup of tea. He seemed curious of much about her but he wouldn't say anything and Dis did not as well.

"Are you from Ered Luin?" The question startled her but she inclined her head in a nod. "Balin said that there were still a good number of your people there, and that it wasn't that far away from the Shire."

"He is correct, many of us have lingered in the Blue Mountains. Some of us do not think we can make the journey while others have founded their homes there," she looked into her tea, curious to its sweetness.

"And you?"

"I would not desire to return to Erebor," Dis said. "I do not think there is much for me there."

Bilbo gave her an odd look but then something seemed to dawn on him. 

"You're Thorin's sister," he said softly and she nodded, watching as his face went from confused to grief. "Excuse me for a moment."

When he came back, Bilbo had something in his hands which he gave to her. It was a small bag, but the weight of whatever was in it held peculiar familiarity but she did not know why. Dis retrieved the item from within, the smoothness of it rubbing familiar in her hands and the dwarfrune on it she only needed to run a finger over to know. 

"He wanted you to have it, if we were ever to run into each other," Bilbo kept his voice quiet, and Dis shook her head a few times before swallowing. "I don't know the significance of it, I'm sorry for that."

"No, he would not have told you but," she said after a moment. "Thorin simply wanted to return my son to me and he has." 


End file.
